The First Three Seconds
by Holz090
Summary: I've promised a nostalgia fic for too long, so this is it. Carla meets Paul's family.


"They're gonna hate me" She turned a bottle of water over in her hands aimlessly as she sat in the passenger seat of Paul's car, like a stroppy child being forced to visit a disliked grandparent.

"Don't be stupid, why would they?" Paul sighed in response, reassuring his girlfriend of 6 months for the third time since they'd got in the car not ten minutes ago.

"I dunno, I just give off summat don't I? Some negative vibe that makes me people hate me before they even speak to me. It's been the same with every bloke I've been with".

"Oh, so there've been a lot of these blokes, have there?" He teased, trying to reassure her but failing.

"No…"

Carla knew she was supposed to laugh at that point; laugh, give some witty response and then cheer up, but it just didn't seem all that amusing right now, and she was all out of witty comebacks.

She threw her head back against the seat and sighed. A swift one for dutch courage with her brother had turned into several and she was already regretting it. Half a bottle of mouthwash later and she still held her breath when she kissed him and thought out every action twice, just in case. Add to that the fact that she was wearing more makeup than she thought she'd worn in the last three years combined, and the fact that she'd already laddered her tights and it was safe to say she'd have preferred to make it another day.

Paul turned to face her, his eyes off the road for a worrying length of time that caused Carla's hands to subconsciously grip the underneath of her seat as though that would prevent her flying through the windscreen should they come into close contact with any speeding lorries. "Carla, you're amazing. Pretty, funny, clever… and my family will see that too. Honestly, you and my mum will be swapping recipes before the evening's out, trust me!" His naively optimistic excitement was sweet, but she couldn't quite bring herself to believe him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep your eyes on the road will ya, I _would_ actually quite like to get there in one piece!"

They passed the distinctive landmarks that indicated they were almost there far too soon. The old boarded up corner shop that had closed for refurbishments last year after a break in and never re-opened told Carla that in approximately 120 seconds she would be forced to enter the lion's den without so much as a slab of meat to offer as a distraction. She'd intended to bring a bottle of wine, and had spent far too long mulling over which of the several hundred on display in her local supermarket would please the She Devil the previous day, but in an act of sheer genius and minor drunkenness had managed to leave it in the fridge at home.

"I knew we should've gone back for that wine." She mumbled, tearing more of the label from the now bashed up plastic bottle in her hand as they pulled up on the drive. "They'll think I'm a right tight-arse now".

"No they won't, don't be stupid" he slapped her arm in a playful manner that was just a little too hard., and Carla found the minor stinging sensation stuck around for far longer than usual. Her heart pounded and her mouth felt dry as the car pulled into a space in the communal car park, despite the fact that she'd already downed two bottles of water and was now desperate for the toilet.

"Right," Paul practically sang his words as he pulled hard on the handbrake and undid his seatbelt, "ready?"

"As I'll ever be" she sighed, swinging her legs out of the car door in an attempt to look remotely ladylike as she exited the car, fully aware that They were probably watching already.

She felt like a lamb to the slaughter as he lead her slowly up towards the block of flats and through the heavy metal door to the staircase that would lead them to Paul's family's flat, and the home he himself had lived in up until the previous year. He walked with ease, as though he'd done this a thousand times, and Carla begun to suspect that he had done.

She was on the back foot before she'd even got through the door: Paul's family knew all about 'her lot' already, or so they thought. They, like everyone else on the estate and beyond, had heard about the junkies arriving at 3am for a fix, and the little stash of cocaine her mother kept in the bedside table to give to them. They knew how her brother had been expelled from 3 schools in as many years, and how their father had vanished one night after a series of violent rows that had kept the entire block awake for weeks beforehand. They'd seen with their own eyes how her mother had walked the estate in slippers, and heard all about her early morning cleaning sessions: scrubbing the outside windows until the sponge dissolved in her hands, high as you like. Of course, they' had no idea of the reality, but since when did a little thing like that ever get in the way of a tasty bit of gossip?

"I give it five minutes".

"Hm?"

"Until the jokes start. Y'know, the wisecracks, the..." She pretended to sniff cocaine from the side of one finger "... Gestures, I've heard it all, Paul".

Paul let go of her hand to put him around her, pulling her in close. "They're not like that, I promise, Car."

"Hmm. Well, we'll know soon enough..."

As they reached another door with a large, faded number 3 painted onto the glass, Carla felt her stomach flip. She was seriously regretting that fourth double vodka tonic.

"They say, don't they, that people make an immediate and lasting impression of you based on what they see in the first three seconds". She was thinking aloud more than anything, but Paul stretched his other arm out in front of her to stop her, before pulling her in for a kiss.

"Please, stop worrying. My mum's not that bad!"

Carla could see he was getting annoyed at her now, so forced the biggest smile she could muster and kissed him back. "Yeah, you're right. It'll be fine, sorry". She tugged his arm to carry on walking, as though she were remotely eager to reach the front door.

"146, this is it" Paul said after what seemed like a never ending walk. He rang the bell, squeezing Carla's hand as footsteps grew louder. Was he secretly nervous too? Maybe deep down he knew she was well of his league, and the brush off from his parents was his way of finishing with her without having to take responsibility.

Her train of thought was broken by the front door opening, and a woman, shorter than Carla had imagined, embracing her son in that european -kissy-kissy way she'd always found uncomfortable. "Paul, darling!" She beamed in a tone as over the top as her makeup.

1...

"And you must be Carla...?" The afforementioned tone immediately vanished into something that sounded as though it were spoken through gritted teeth, as Carla suspected it was probably was. "Yes, hi!" She tried to sound friendly, but knew she was failing. She could feel Helen's eyes burning into her as she scanned her up and down, and Carla self-consciously pulled her skirt down further.

2...

"Well, come in then!" Helen pulled the door open further, gesturing for Carla to enter first. Carla was so busy trying to mirror her would be in-law's expression back to her that she was oblivious of the mat in front of her until it was too late, and she tripped in spectacular style, stumbling the length of the corridoor before finally stopping herself short of falling, grabbing the radiator to break her fall. Helen looked down, clearly disguising a combination of laughter and shame.

3. Well, that was then. She was screwed.


End file.
